Supernatural - The ripple effect
by Koba Fern
Summary: Peter Drumond is a very ambitious wannabe reporter for a backwater paper In Taos New Mexico. His enthusiasm for news lands him a tail chasing lead from the editor that ends up being something more.


**Chapter one - From tomorrow. **

"Peter what are you getting at, this is not a connection I can make and to be honest I don't know anyone who would – get it cleared up; the word deadline, starts with dead." Archie snarled. "Yes…..yes of course I will, but there is so much more story here Archy I know it! This is just preliminary sir." Peter's damage control could have been better.

The second floor of the Taos municipal bank was the nerve centre for the Taos tribune, a purpose built fortress left over from the times of bandits; and other such folk looking to make large withdrawals regardless of if they held an account there. Not that the fortress type walls ever needed to protect the newspaper, for Watergate and other marvellous stories appeared in proper, bigger cities. None of that deterred Peter Drummond's ambition, he saw a world ending story in everything.

"The first rule of journalism is to give something to someone, so they'll give it up to you now get me something real or you'll be back to covering the farmers market, again!" Lauded Archie. Peter sloped back to his desk which he made organized himself from an old tea tray positioned outside of the toilets, edging slowly onto the reporting floor.

Peter was as plucky as he was skinny, wiry even with piercing brown eyes almost black. He had black trousers and white short sleeve shirt with grey tank top. In fact that's all he wore with 4 variations in his closet as his theory was it saved him 2 months each year in deciding what to wear, saving his focus for the news that hadn't yet happened.

"Yo son, he knock you back on your Mexican vampire shit?" Marlowe teased. "Point of fact Mr Winchester, Mexicans do not have vampires, they have the Chupacabra literally meaning goat sucker, perhaps the Europeans stole…" Marlowe interrupted holding his palm to Peters face – "Chupa what now? Whatever, all I do know is you need to get laid little man and stop playing them games, get out more you feeling me?" Marlowe quizzed. "Yes sir I get it, but this story is….." he was interrupted again. "That story is just another rich white man who done good, or is there something more that you know and I don't?" he said walking away punctuating his point.

"I suspect there is a lot I know that you don't" Peter said quiet enough for the ex-wrestling sports reporter not to hear, but his rebellious side to.

The tea tray rattled as his phone rang. "Hello Peter Drummond news desk, how can I direct your call" Peter was always first to answer the floor phone, hoping to imprint his voice to enough people that when he eventually got out the office, people would already know him. "Peter Drummond did you say, the Peter Drummond of Taos tribune?" asked the voice. "Yes, yes it is the very same" Peter caught off guard as it was his first call direct. "Sorry son, I just didn't recognize the card you left my assistant." Peter was not a fully-fledged reporter and took it upon himself to design business cards of his own. He rummaged the shelf below on his tea tray come desk for a pad. "Yes sir, this is he, who may I ask is calling how may I help?"

"I'm Marlon Harris, you left a message for me to get in touch two weeks ago, and sorry it's been long in me getting back." Peter found the name on his list and put a long awaited tick through his name and refreshed himself about Mr Harris; it said – long range bet in European soccer as the team Basel shock Bayern Munich with victory in the dying minutes.

"Yes sir I'm doing a piece on online sports betting and I note that you had some luck in a European soccer, or football match as it's known over there." He went to great lengths not to alienate his story. "Ah yes, that was a good night indeed, I expect you heard about it on the radio huh?" Mr Harris spoke at ease.

"Yes sir, it is in relation to that I wanted to get a little more background such as your betting habits and knowledge of European soccer, given it's such a long shot." Peter slowly turned the pressure up. "I'm not really a gambler Mr Drummond, I just looked at the stats and it felt right to do" Peter noted the comfort in Marlon's voice fade. "Okay sir, then may I ask what made you put such a large bet on the game? I mean if you're not as you say a gambler?" Peter was closing in.

"Look son, sometimes in life if you do your homework enough and with a bit of luck, then it goes your way, God smiled down on my family that day." Peter scribbling his answers, stopped dead – "God you say Mr Harris, well I'm very pleased it worked out for you but one last thing sir if I may." He said holding his breath. "…Yes make it quick I'm busy" Marlon's tone clearly now less relaxed. "How did you feel when Manchester United defeated them in the next round?" Peter came out of left field. "Oh ha-ha yes that pesky team, like I said son, god smiled on me and I'm sad they got beat, take care now and have a nice day." He closed.

Peter forgot to say goodbye scribbling madly the words from his conversation, having not ever learnt short hand. "God damn, gotcha" Peter's inner voice came forth. He got up from his desk to go to Marlowe's, real permanent desk. "Excuse me Mr Henning's; can I check a result with you?" Peter stood admiring the sports desk. "Sure Peter, what do you need?" "In 2012 European champion's league, after Basel beat Bayern Munich, can you confirm they then went onto beating Manchester United in the next round?" Peter readied himself for inevitable parody. "At last your taking interest in real news, hang on. Erm yeah they were giant killers that season, beating two world class teams, but I'm confused little man this isn't even American sports, how'd you know this?" Marlowe was often thrown by this young pretender's odd ways.

"The real question is how Mr Harris would not know this?" he said walking back to his desk ignoring Marlowe's question so caught in the story.

Peter got back to his desk to find the lunch list as part of him being on the news floor was to take coffee and lunch orders and other duties. His uncle's words rang true 'being my nephew got you up here to learn from the pro's but you gotta be seen, not heard and be errand boy until someone throws you a bone." He had to remind himself of this as his enthusiasm would often take him off track.

He took the order and money down to Millie's sandwich bar where he stood in line. Then from behind - "You've never killed a dragon?" Peter replied "He's probably never met a six-foot-tall hot elf-woman in a fur bikini, either." Players of D and D would quote this famous line to parody the sad people not exposed to the most excellent game. "Hey Zach, glad to see you, how's things." Peter turned to find his old friend and level 23 warlock opponent. "Grand as ever my young friend, how are things in the world of news and hidden identities?" Zach had a standing admiration for Peter Parker and Clarke Kent being they were both attracted to newspapers; and made parallels with his much admired friend and the justice league. Peter never corrected Zach that Spidey wasn't a JL'er.

"I'm working on something right now in fact; hey you're a math guy can I ask you something?" Peter hope to get help on his story. "Shoot, I'm honour you ask, happy to further…" Peter cut him off from making grandiose quotes about superheroes etc. "Sorry Zach, in a rush – would you put a bet taking up 80% of your savings on a sports game with 12/1 odds against, and what's the probabilities of failure" Peter knew Zach's computed mind would help him display the facts of his story better.

Zach motioned his friend to the table while their order got filled. "Now for a proper answer ill need more, such as sport type and weather conditions" Zach's demeanour changed to an earthly focus. "Erm European soccer match Basel against Bayern Munich 2012, you'll get more of what you need online, mail me when…." Peter was paused by another palm facing him. "Hold on got it! Zach's handheld brought up the game history. Now the variables are not even applicable as the referee stopped a goal from the German champions and the winning goal was scored by a last minute substitute." Zach stopped still reading. "In short, the variables make it incalculable as human error has no means of applicable algorithm!" Zach spouted.

"English please, what does all that mean to me?" Peter pushed. "Only a mad person would bet on this game because the outcome cannot have been based on past form, or Bayern Munich would have beaten Basel soundly!" Zach sat back arms crossed.

"God damn it, I knew it" Peter's vigour was reaching new heights. Zach's curiosity was now peaking in line with his Dungeon pal's question.

"Let me in Peter, I can help" Peter watched the following cloud settle from the speeding car outside as he considered Zach's offer. "Okay sure, but this is pretty high level stuff and I'll need your complete none disclosure on this, beyond our circle!" Peter referred his loyalty beyond the gaming community.

Zach's answer followed quicker than any fully armed ork with spell casting ability could squash an unsuspecting elf – "YES!"

The two friends left Millie's agreed a meeting time for later that day parting directions with Peter delivering his order back to the tribune and Zach headed off home to prep. The driver of a red pick up at the end of the street positioned his rear view and started his engine, drove slowly away.


End file.
